


28-2

by hold_our_destiny



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Spiderman - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Happy ending though, Home Invasion, Protective Tony Stark, Whump, brake in, hurt/ comfort, tony stark is peters biological father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 23:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19964860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hold_our_destiny/pseuds/hold_our_destiny
Summary: peters home alone when someone breaks inbeta read by @dreamingformuses





	28-2

“You can’t hide forever” - home invasion 

It was silent. Deadly silent.

Peter was the only one in the house, well- before the random stranger came in and started to threaten him. Peter immediately dove for a lower kitchen cabinet and shut the door. He grabbed his phone, sending a message to his father.

Man in the house. 911. 

He then turned his phone off. He couldn't risk anything. 

He could hear the intruder in the other room, slamming open doors closed again, and breaking things as he went. Peter wasn’t sure if it was an accident or not. He could feel tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. But, he held it in. He had to.

He heard footsteps come closer. Please, no, he thought. The man started angrily banging on the cabinet doors across the kitchen. Peter knew he would find his hiding spot soon enough.

“You can’t hide forever, boy!” he yelled. Peter whimpered, stuffing a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

The footsteps slowed down, and Peter’s heart rate climbed way too far way too fast. 

“There you are,” Peter could practically hear the cruel grin. 

The door was yanked off his hinges in seconds. Peter screamed.

His attacker oozed decadence and luxury. He was wearing a white tailored suit, an incredibly shiny watch, and his blonde hair was slicked back with a bit too much wax. 

He smiled when he saw Peter, reached forward and grabbed a handful of his brown curls. He didn’t just pull. He practically yanked Peter out of his empty cabinet. 

He dragged Peter across the pristine marble floor, and threw him onto the couch. ’Mr. Rich’, as Peter dubbed him, picked up a bag by the entranceway and set it on the end table. 

He slowly unzipped the duffel bag, obviously trying to build intensity and anxiety with every second. From the depths of the bag, he pulled out a bunch of zip ties and held three out to peter.

“Tie these around your ankles,” Mr. Rich barked. 

Peter shrunk back into the couch cushions. By not following his directions immediately, he unknowingly provoked Mr. Rich. In one smooth motion, he slapped Peter across the cheek. After that, Peter didn’t hesitate to tie his ankles up.

When he was done, Mr. Rich took his wrists in his hands and secured them with another zip tie that was a bit too tight to be comfortable. He started to silently cry.

“Oh, honey, don't cry. It’s all going to be over soon.” he shushed Peter before tying a gag around his mouth, pulling it tight across the back of his head.

He reached inside the bag once again, and produced a syringe. Peter immediately squirmed away from it. But, he didn’t get far before he was rudely dragged back to where he came from. 

Mr. Rich squirted a few drops out of the syringe and flicked the needle to make sure it was ready. “You’re just gonna feel a little pinch…” he said under his breath. Peter’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply as the needle forcefully entered his neck

“This is just… just gonna make you a bit sleepy, okay?”

Peter could feel the drug spreading through his veins. It was a searing pain, and one that he couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard he tried. It left behind a frozen trail of numbness, allowing him no control over his body. It was as if his body was shutting down slowly.

Mr. Rich stood up from there, and carefully removed his blazer jacket along with his tie, neatly laying them on the armrest of the couch.

Peter could barely move a muscle. At this point, he could barely twitch a finger, much less even think about fighting back. Man, what was in that drug? He thought to himself. He couldn’t control the newfound heaviness slowly sliding his eyelids shut. 

He climbed over Peter’s now still form, and put his knee in between the backrest and Peter’s side. He was holding himself up over Peter, with his hands just above his shoulders and his knees straddling Peter’s hips. He picked Peter’s head up so he could tighten his makeshift gag. He carded his fingers through Peter’s mussed hair and whispered, “Shhhhh….. Just hold still. If you’re good for me, baby, it’ll all be over soon. ” 

He started running his hands down Peter’s torso, lifting up the hem of his shirt and placing his ice cold hands above Peter’s hips.

He leant forward so his head was in the crook of Peter’s neck. He inhaled deeply, and made a pleased sound. If Peter could have shivered, he would have.

“You know, when I found out the famous Mr. Stark had a son, I was just going to kill you. I just wanted to get under his skin. Maybe get a little money out of it. I just wanted him firmly under my thumb. But when I saw you trembling inside that cabinet, I changed my mind. You looked so deliciously scared. And I simply couldn’t help myself. Could I, Petey-pie?”

Peter tried to whimper again, but the most he could manage was wide, scared eyes. He bit down on Peter’s neck, leaving far too many marks for Peter’s liking. Mr. Rich’s hands got bored, and slowly started to move down to Peter’s waist before starting to unbutton his jeans.

Peter tried harder. He could have sworn he was screaming, but in reality, he was just making small, pained gargles. He pulled Peter’s jeans down to just below his knees, and bent down to undo his own immaculate trousers. He got as far as the zipper when a loud blast broke the front door into splinters, making Peter squeeze his eyes shut and Mr. Rich curse.

“Get. The fuck. Away. From my kid.” Peter heard a voice growl. His attacker was suddenly blasted off the couch and across the room, eliciting more tears from Peter. 

A hand was suddenly on his cheek, wiping away the tears. “Oh, baby… what did that fuckwad do to you? I’m… I’m going to make sure he never sees the light of day ever again, kid. I promise.”

Tony started cutting through the zip ties with a knife from… somewhere. He then before pulled Peter’s pants up and wrapped him in a tight hug, mindful of the fact that Peter couldn’t move himself. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t here for you. I should have- I should have fucking been there. I don’t know… I shouldn’t have left you, and this… disgusting asshole, speaking of which, FRIDAY? Get someone on that.” 

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry I couldn’t alert you sooner to the intruder. He took out a majority of my databases.” FRIDAY’s voice came through the ceiling.

“Whatever. Peter, honey-” 

“Please… don’t call me that.” Peter said weakly. “Or -uh baby.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “He speaks.” 

“That’s about all I can do.”

“What do you want me to do?” Tony asked carefully.   
Peter’s response was immediate. “Stay. And- the hugging thing is kinda nice.” 

“Of course. Anything you want. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know how he got in. I just- ‘spidey-senses’, you know? I could hear him smashing stuff and looking through cabinets in the front part of the house, and so I hid in one of the kitchen cabinets. He found me and dragged me out here. Told me to tie my own ankles, and he did my wrists, and then stabbed me with that.” he looked towards the discarded syringe. 

“He was saying all these awful things and I could tell he was heading to act upon those words, and I’m so glad you got here when you did.” Peter let his barriers come down a little bit more. He leaned into Mr. Stark’s hold and cried openly on his shoulder. 

“He was gonna hurt me, I knew it. He was gonna hurt me in the worst way, and I know I should be thankful he didn’t beat me up or anything, but I was just so scared. I couldn’t move and he was on top of me, and he bit my neck, and I didn’t like that at all, and he even took off my pants. I didn’t… I didn’t want him to touch me and he did.” 

Tony looked just about ready to kill. “He touched you? Like… there?” 

“No. No, not there. Just in general.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I just felt so helpless.” Peter whispered. There was a pause, and Tony quietly asked if he could pick Peter up and take him to somewhere other than the scene of the crime. They ended up going to the highest balcony. It was Peter’s favorite spot. He could see way out across the Pacific/ New York. It was an absolutely fantastic view. Peter found it really calming to be able to see everything around him. 

“You okay, bud?” Tony asked tentatively. 

“Yeah. Just thinking, I guess.” Peter sat with his chin resting on his knees on one of the chaise lounges. 

“You can talk to me, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Peter nodded. 

“I love you. I love you a lot, Petey.” Peter’s head snapped up. His breathing accelerated and his hands started to shake. Tony could tell he’d done something wrong. 

“Don’t- I mean… he- when he told me what he wanted to do to me- he called me that.” Peter gasped. 

“Right. Okay. No more of that nickname.” Tony felt absolutely terrible that the asshole who attacked Peter was now attaching horrible memories to things that he previously loved. Well, at least Peter would talk to him. 

The road to recovery is always long, but at least they had passed the first mile marker. 

fin.


End file.
